


The Great Face-Touching Incident of 2k08

by platonicharmonics



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:46:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4058809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonicharmonics/pseuds/platonicharmonics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"I only let him put his hand on my face once, 'cause... weird." – Foggy Nelson</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Do you want to feel my face?” he asked, quietly.</p>
<p>Matt blinked and leaned back. “Um.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Great Face-Touching Incident of 2k08

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since I finished watching Daredevil, I knew I would inevitably write a fic for it. What better bait than that face-touching comment? Also, I'd like to give a shoutout to kjstark for giving me a nudge to write this.
> 
> I wrote this fic to be platonic, but I'm sure it can be shippy if you squint.

New York City in October was a cool, breezy haze of colors and smells and sounds – the stores decked themselves out in blacks and oranges and greens, the trees shifted to reds and yellows, and everywhere there were skeletons and jack-o-lanterns.

And who could forget dicks in costume doing jump scares at nine o'clock at night?

“There's a creepy clown ten steps ahead,” Foggy announced. Matt was walking beside him, cozy in jeans and a too-big hoodie, still smiling from their conversation about the movie they finished fifteen minutes prior at the nearest theater with audio description services. His walking cane was tap-tap-tapping back and forth in front of him in its steady rhythm, kinda like a heartbeat, a beat that Foggy not only became accustomed to but even grew to like – it was a sound associated with Matt, how could he not? “Pretty sure he's a jumper.”

Matt responded by wrinkling his nose in distaste with a soft “Ugh,” then threaded his arm through Foggy's.

Sure enough, as soon as they got to the clown, he lunged out at them with a shrill, hoarse, shrieking laugh. Foggy mock-saluted the guy as they walked away, arm-in-arm like a pair of high-class gentlemen above the shenanigans of hooligans.

“Good call,” Matt smirked. “You're spotting the assholes already. You'll be a terror in court.”

“Oh, yeah, I can see it now: 'Members of the jury, the prosecution makes a compelling argument, but have you considered that they're a bunch of _raging assholes_?'”

Matt threw his head back and cackled, then bumped their shoulders. “A true classic.”

Foggy couldn't keep the grin off of his face. He glanced over at Matt, who looked the exact opposite of what he looked like just five hours ago – down in the dumps, mostly – and prompted, “So, you having fun?”

“ _Yes_ , Fogs, I'm having fun.”

“You feeling better?”

“ _Yes_ , Foggy, I am.”

“And _what_ did I tell you?”

“That I'd cheer up.”

“And what did _you_ say?”

“Oh, God, I know where this is going.”

“Hmmmm? What was that?”

Matt's head bobbled a little to suggest he had rolled his eyes. “That I _wouldn't_.”

“And _who_ was right?”

“You were but _do not say_ -”

“I told you so.”

“God _dammit_ , Nelson.”

“I'm wearing a shit-eating grin right now, FYI.”

Matt flexed his arm, hauling Foggy off-balance to knock against his shoulder before bouncing back. Foggy just laughed and squeezed Matt's arm.

–

Back in their dorm room, Foggy was shedding off his jacket and shoving it back on its hanger in their teeny-tiny shared closet while Matt tossed aside his cane and walked over to his mattress. He sat and started taking off his shoes while Foggy moved to plop down on his own mattress. When he finally had both his shoes and socks tucked under the bed, he looked up to see Matt facing him. He sat up and prompted, “Yeah?”

“I just – wanted to say thanks. For dinner. And that movie. You – you really didn't have to.”

“Oi, dude, it was either that or eating ice cream from the box while listening to Sarah McLachlan. Breakups suck ass, we might as well get some burgers and experience a cheesy-ass action flick.”

Matt pulled his legs up onto the covers and crossed them, then took off his glasses and set them on the night-stand. “I just... thought this time was different.”

“Well, you know, technically it _was,_ seeing as _she_ broke up with _you_ instead of the other way around.” Matt grimaced, and Foggy backpedaled. “Just proves she wasn't worth you, man.”

“I think her friends... didn't 'like' me.”

Foggy made a loud farting noise, which surprised Matt into a laugh. “ _Sucks_ to them, they missed out, bro. And besides, if Candy chose those douchebags over you-”

“Her name's Cindy.”

“-what does that say about her character, huh? Forget about her.”

Matt turned his head towards him and sadly smiled. “I guess you're right.”

Foggy resituated himself on the bed and crossed his arms. “Like, the only thing she had going for her were her looks.”

Matt quirked an eyebrow and deadpanned, “Well, I wouldn't know about that, would I?”

“Oh bullshit, every girlfriend you've ever had has been off-the-charts hot, I don't even know how you do it.”

“Do what?”

“ _Know!_ ”

“Know _what?_ ”

“Whether or not they're hot!”

“I- What- _Oh come on_ , you're not serious.”

“Yeah. Yup. You always go for the hot ones and I have no idea how-”

“Coincidence.”

“Oh _boo_. There has to be some way you know what people look like.”

“I _don't_ know what people look like.”

“Not a single way? Not _one_ way?”

“ _No_ \- I mean, well...”

“Ah- _ha_.”

“No listen-”

“Spit it out, Murdock.”

Matt scooted forward on the bed. “The only way I can know what people look like is if I feel them. As in- like feeling their face.” Foggy was quiet, thoughtful. “Of course, you know that I don't go around rubbing my hands over strangers' faces.”

Foggy crossed his legs. “So... if you feel someone's face, you can tell what they look like?”

Matt grimaced. “Uh, not- really, actually, it's more vague than you're thinking, probably, but...”

“But what?”

“I can recognize them. I get this sort of- picture. A vague picture. But it's a picture.”

“So, what, is it just a girlfriend thing?”

“No. Not at all. No.” A quiet moment. “I used to feel my dad's face all the time. He had a new bruise every time I did it.”

Foggy gently hummed and nodded. He knew it was a blue moon if Matt ever mentioned his dad. “Do you want to feel my face?” he asked, quietly.

Matt blinked and leaned back. “Um.”

Foggy swallowed. “'Naw, forget I said anything-”

“No! It's fine! C'mere.”

“Really Matt just-”

“ _Come here_.” Matt snapped his fingers and sharply pointed at the spot beside him for emphases.

Foggy huffed out a laugh, then reluctantly got up and sat where Matt told him to. The springs creaked under their combined weight, and Matt raised both of his hands into the space between them. He paused.

“You ready?”

“Don't make it weird, dude.”

Matt smiled, shook his head a little, then carefully placed both of his hands on Foggy's cheeks. He immediately asked, “Why are you smiling so hard?”

“It's not a smile, it's a grimace, your hands are cold.” Matt started to pull away but Foggy tapped on his elbows. “Nope, no, go on, I can take it.”

Matt placed his hands on Foggy's cheeks again and slowly splayed his fingers out, face falling into somber concentration. Foggy forced his own face to relax and tried not to fidget. Matt's pinkies dipped down to his jaw-line, his pointer fingers brushed against his eyelashes, and his thumbs framed his nose. Then, he cupped his hands and slowly started feeling down his jawline, from his side-burns to his chin.

Foggy nervously licked his lips. He was suddenly overcome with regret. Matt's hands were slowly trailing over his face – his face with patchy facial hair and acne scars and blackheads, his face with full cheeks and a double chin. What if Matt was grossed out? What if he cringed away and shook out his hands? Every horrific memory of middle school was being dredged up to the surface and he was becoming ever-increasingly anxious.

Matt, however, did not even hesitate. He continued trailing his fingertips carefully upwards to his cheekbones, then along to his temples and up to his forehead. His thumbs smoothed over his eyebrows, and when his hands gently traveled downwards Foggy closed his eyes.

He would be the first person to tell anyone that he was confident. Yeah, he _knew_ that he had worth, he _knew_ that he was attractive, he _knew_ that he was capable. But there were only so many years that you could constantly see yourself and others like you being the butt of jokes in movies, on TV shows, in books, in life, and not be effected by all the bullshit. He was confident, and there were people who found that fucking _hilarious_.

Matt's knuckles gently ghosted over his eyelids and eyelashes before resting on his cheekbones again, where he flipped them and started feeling his nose. He circled down to the space around his mouth and almost reverently trailed his thumbs across his lips. Foggy opened his eyes and looked long and hard at Matt's face. His eyes were always unfocused, never looking at anything in particular, but he still had that somber, thoughtful look on his face. Finally, his hands traveled back to their original place on his cheeks, framing his face. Matt smiled, suddenly, and pulled them away.

Foggy grew suspicious. “Now, I know it's not much...”

“I _like_ your face!”

Foggy blinked a couple times at Matt. The man was practically beaming at him with a million-watt smile, and shit, he said it so- _enthusiastically_ , honestly, and yup, okay, alright, he made it weird.

Foggy felt blood rush up and into his face and into his ears and he was 100% certain he was going to be rose-bud red in a minute or two. Good thing Matt was the only one in there, thank God for small favors. “Uh, aha, yeah, that's me, that's my face.” Matt's smile turned a little grimace-y, so Foggy forged onwards with a, “I like your face, too, just so we're clear.” He booped Matt's nose with his thumb for effect.

Matt lost the grimace and relaxed. He laughed a little, then nudged Foggy's elbow. “There we have it, then. We like each other's faces.”

“Let's have it for two dudes with likeable faces, c'mon, fist-bump!”

Matt smiled again and lifted his fist, which Foggy promptly bumped.


End file.
